Thumbelina

The sparrow describes the well-known tale.

My name is Sparrow. I am nearing fifty, but I was once a charming young bird with a melodic voice. I had one close friend, and her name was Thumbelina. I will never forget that mythical princess. However, in previous tales, my dear Thumbelina was made out to be a precious gem, but she was far from that. She was sometimes selfish and spiteful, but despite her crude behavior, I was deeply in love with her, and I am here to tell the tale that has been previously twisted about. Years ago, I lived in a large oak tree outside of an old widow’s home. She was without child, yet she longed to have a baby with all her heart. She was a kind and lonely woman with a heart big enough for anything and everything. One night while she slept, I sang sweetly into her ear and told her to ask a fairy to provide her with a child. She was overjoyed and did as I said. The fairy agreed to the request and gave the old widow barleycorn to plant into the garden. The widow was incredibly grateful and followed the fairy’s instructions precisely. After the barleycorn was planted, a flower grew as tall as the widow. The old woman kissed the silky petals with her soft lips, and the doors of the flower immediately opened to reveal a small child sitting inside. The tiny person gave a little yawn and stretched her thin arms towards the heavens. The widow was shocked at the sight, but after her recovery, she took the tiny girl in her hands and instantaneously loved her. Seeing as the child was no bigger than a thumb, the widow named her newfound daughter Thumbelina. Thumbelina was born a beautiful and innocent child who loved pretty things and music. She had luscious blonde waves that rode down her back. She had eyes so big and blue, shielded by the longest and fullest lashes. Her every curve was perfect and precise, and her tender lips were smooth and plump. Little Thumbelina helped her mother with household chores and talked amongst the friendly animals. Her mouth always uttered songs of magic. However, as time passed by, the glorious Thumbelina changed drastically. She would stare out the window with dull eyes for hours at a time and would wish to do nothing else. She rarely spoke to any of her old friends, and I became the sole being whom she confided in. Through bleary eyes, she confessed to me that she felt out of place in the world. She was lonely and heartbroken, desiring the company of another tiny person like herself. I told her I was a tiny person, she could be with me, but this was not good enough for Thumbelina. She said it was not the same because I was simply a bird. Her words hurt my heart, but I tried not to let it faze me. Thumbelina did not need to lose her only remaining friend over a minute dispute. Thumbelina also told me that she was aware that her mother loved her dearly, but she needed more than just that. She wanted to see the outside world and find whatever was out there calling her name. I felt terribly for the old widow, and I feared we would all one day lose our precious gem. Thumbelina’s mother had made glamorous clothes out of the finest fabric for her daughter, but the tiny girl slaughtered them and dyed them black. She chopped off the flowing golden curls from her head and dyed them a deep black as well. She soon changed her exotic name to Thumbtack to match the sharp ways she had adopted. Although Thumbelina constantly mouthed off to her mother, often bringing the woman to tears, the widow continued to love her daughter all the same. My heart went out to the woman, but a part of me still felt soft for Thumbelina. One cold night as Thumbelina sat at her usual post in front of the window, I could hear the most beautiful music from the large oak tree I called home. I flew downward, having been drawn in by the sorrowful tune. My magnificent Thumbelina loved music above all, and this still had not changed despite all the darkness inside of her. Her song was cut short. A disgustingly plump toad climbed up the wall and into Thumbelina’s bedroom. Through heavy breathing, the toad asked Thumbtack to marry her son. Thumbtack jumped up without hesitation and followed the tiny beast out to the garden’s pond. How could my dear Thumbelina abandon her mother so easily when the woman had shown her nothing but love! Oh, how could she abandon me! Thumbtack was soon introduced to the toad’s son, and she was appalled. Despite the toad’s wealth, he was still stupid and slimy, and Thumbtack would never marry such a creature. She spat at his feet and ran off. Along the way, Thumbelina overheard a school of fish discussing the nasty little toads, and she asked them for help. They told her they did not want to get involved, so Thumbtack jumped onto their backs and forced them to carry her to her escape downstream. A large raven spotted Thumbtack floating aggressively atop a leaf and, thinking that she was a bug to be caught for dinner, he picked her up with his beak and carried her by the hem of her dress to his nest in an old tree. Thumbtack was rude to the birds in the nest, and the others did not think the ugly brat would make a pleasant meal, so the raven dropped Thumbelina on top of a pink flower and abandoned her there. She lived on her own for quite some time, yet she enjoyed her independence. She would go for swims, steal food from other animals, and sleep on the soft grassy plains or beneath the consoling arms of nearby trees. Little did she know that I was watching her the entire time. Eventually, the weather outside grew unbearably cool, and Thumbelina had little food and warmth. The bugs she devoured at mealtime were no longer available to her, and the sheltering trees had lost their leaves. Knowing that she would otherwise freeze to death, Thumbelina attempted to find someone who would provide her with food and shelter during the long winter season. She came upon the house of a mouse, and she demanded shelter. The courteous mouse invited Thumbelina inside. Thumbtack was offered a small yet comfortable room within the house, but she commanded the hostess’s larger bedroom, and the kind mouse obliged. Thumbtack only stayed with the mouse so she would not die because she did not enjoy the elderly creature’s company, and when she was asked to read stories to the little mouse, Thumbtack refused. My tiny friend lived in solitary, confined to the large bedroom, and the poor mouse was disheartened because she rarely saw her guest. She knew that Thumbtack was being unkind and ungrateful, but the mouse was too sweet to make her guest leave. One afternoon, the mouse welcomed another guest into her home. The friend was a blind mole who wished to marry Thumbelina because he did not wish to be alone in his old age, and Thumbelina said yes to him upon being asked because he was extremely wealthy. She left the limitations of her bedroom’s four walls and spent most of her time with the mole even though she believed him to be a great bore. Upon entering his home one day, Thumbelina found me lying lifelessly in front of the mole’s door. I had been on my way to visit my dear friend one last time before losing her to the mole, but the weather had taken me off guard and my body became frozen with cold. I  believed beyond all reason that, despite the fact that Thumbtack had become a spiteful little person, she still had a heart inside. She was sad and confused, but I knew she was capable of evolving into a gentle-hearted young lady. I wanted to protect Thumbelina and, above all, I wanted to hear her sing. Thumbelina proved to me in that afternoon that the heart I once knew was still inside her. She had nourished me back to health, and I will never forget that. As soon as I was well enough, I flew away from her without saying goodbye. Thumbelina did not need me to watch over her any longer, and I had finally realized that. The mole lived in a dark hole beneath the ground, and when Thumbelina found out about this, she no longer wanted to be with him. She liked the way the rays of the sun beat down upon her face, and although she would not admit it, she could not live without seeing the great ball of fire again. Thumbtack reasoned with herself and decided that she had to leave the mole because his money could not be well-spent under ground. Full of distraught and pondering about a means of escape, she stood on the front porch of the mouse’s house. She eyed the beautiful outdoors for what she believed to be the last time, and I saw the pain written clearly across her face. I swooped down to her, and Thumbelina’s face shone brightly in its old way for a split second before turning glum once again. I asked her to fly away with me, and she agreed wholeheartedly for she desperately wanted to escape from the mole, even if it would break the poor thing’s heart. I took Thumbelina to a majestic kingdom with a crystal clear lake and flowers galore. I could see it in her eyes that she thought the place was lovely too, but she would never say so aloud. I set her gently into a charming little flower that was to become her new home. I knelt down before her and my desires to wed her rolled off of my tongue in sweet nothingness. Thumbelina squealed in delight, and I truly believed she was excited over my question of marriage. To my dismay, her eyes had peeled away from my own, and a tiny man with the most handsome face emerged from behind a petal. Thumbelina stared longingly into the shimmering eyes of the Flower King, and through obscured hearing, I could make out his own desires to take her as his queen. Thumbelina was overjoyed and forgot all about my previous request. Her quick yes was sure and strong. I could hear the excitement in her voice, and although I hated to give her up to the king, I knew I had to for her own pleasure. If my Thumbelina would be pleased, then I needed to give up my own longing in exchange for her happiness. It was the only way. Without a backward glance, I flew away into the protection of a large birch tree. Discreetly, I continued to watch Thumbelina throughout the years, and she called out for me on occasion, but I never revealed myself. She did not need me, and it was less painful to isolate myself from her. Thumbelina went through another drastic change. Throughout the years, she allowed her broken hair to grow back out to its natural state of succulent beauty. She rid herself of the darkly frayed clothing and replaced the material with the softest, most detailed silk. She smiled more and sang without embarrassment. The songs had lost their sorrow and were now full of bliss. She gave up the name of Thumbtack and allowed her prince to call her by her given name. The biggest, most significant change of all in Thumbelina was her desire to please people. Her previous treatment of maliciousness was replaced with a need to keep others from having hurt feelings. She was just as sweet as the day she was born and my Thumbelina was the most beautiful thing alive! Thumbelina became the most compassionate person I have ever known. She was like an angel sent from above, and she was very dear to me. I will never forget the princess who stole my heart, and I will keep her memory alive so that everyone can learn about this glorious girl.

Author's Note

Critiques requested.

Reviews

[W.k.kortas]

The notion of having a bird as your narrator is really quite clever, but I think you can do more with it. Since the bird is a minor character in the story, it would be a more compelling piece if Sparrow had more of a well-developed personality; right now the bird is simply a vehicle to tell the story, which not a bad thing, but there is room to develop that. The narrative moves crisply and efficiently. This is a solid piece of writing.